Phoenicia Journal; Great Views, and a Peek Into the Past

By HUBERT B. HERRING

Published: November 5, 2000

PHOENICIA, N.Y.—
Hikers are, by and large, an undemanding bunch. Given a choice between life's goodies and soothing nature, they'll generally go for nature. But when they reach a summit after an often-rugged climb of two hours or so, they want, well, a little payoff. Not much, mind you -- they don't expect a mountaintop Starbucks or a steaming Jacuzzi. But is a stunning view too much to ask?

Sometimes, yes. Until recently, hikers who scaled Hunter Mountain faced a frustrating sight. Hunter is a big, broad-shouldered mountain, and its summit -- at 4,040 feet, the second highest in the Catskills, after Slide Mountain -- is at a clearing in a fairly flat evergreen forest. (No, this isn't the top of the ski area; that's nearly two miles north.) And from that clearing you get a panoramic view of -- trees.

An old fire tower rises above the thicket, promising a stunning panorama indeed. A year ago, though, signs warned hikers away, many of the tower's steps were broken, and those who defied the signs found the little enclosure on top locked.

But hikers who happened on the summit on a recent Saturday were greeted with a happier sight. A crowd of perhaps 40 people had gathered for the official reopening of the tower, repaired and freshly painted. The little room on top, complete with a new roof and a large map mounted on a table, offered shelter from the brisk wind -- and one of the Catskills' best views, a 360-degree top-of-the-world sweep over rugged peaks, carpeted valleys and nestled towns.

Much of the credit goes to Helen Budrock, assistant director of the Catskill Center for Conservation and Development in Arkville, and George Profous, a senior forester at the State Department of Environmental Conservation.

Ms. Budrock, 29, began working at the Catskill Center in 1996. ''I've climbed all the fire towers,'' she said.

Soon after arriving, she got a call from some worried Claryville residents seeking to save the Red Hill tower. ''I made a couple of phone calls,'' she said, ''and found scattered interest throughout the region. It just needed some organization to get the effort going.''

She soon teamed up with Mr. Profous, 44, who has been with the conservation department for nine years. At the time, ''I was saying maybe we should knock the towers down because the D.E.C. hadn't been maintaining them,'' he said, but what he really hoped was that local interest would materialize. That is just what happened, to reverse decades of neglect.

Nearly a century ago, after a rash of fires, the state decided to build lookout towers on the highest Catskills peaks. Hunter was the first, with a 40-foot log tower built in 1909. In his recent book ''Fire Towers of the Catskills: Their History and Lore,'' Martin Podskoch relates that ''for about $50-a-month salary, the observer stood on an open platform and lived in a tent.''

Bleak, yes, but weather wasn't the sole hazard. Porcupines were a constant nuisance, Mr. Podskoch writes, with one lookout claiming to have shot 900 of them. The wife in one caretaker couple living in a log cabin often heard porcupines gnawing and ''would grab her gun and shoot them while still in bed.''

In 1917, the Hunter tower was replaced by a porcupine-proof, 60-foot-high steel model, with the steel hauled up by horse and wagon. Eventually 23 towers were scattered in and around the Catskills, most built by 1927.

In the 1980's, though, with aerial surveillance deemed more effective, the state began phasing out the towers' use, with the last observer climbing down from the Red Hill tower, in Claryville, in 1990.

The towers, neglected, deteriorated rapidly. Most were dismantled, with the remaining five closed for safety reasons. But just as those five also seemed headed for the scrap heap, enough people popped up who cared about them -- their views and their history (four are on the National Register of Historic Places) -- that a movement was born to save them.

In early 1997, with community support, the Catskill Fire Tower Restoration Project was started. It has raised more than $60,000, some from the state, some from the sale of T-shirts and the like, and the rest from bake sales, raffles, fund-raising concerts and private donations.

While Ms. Budrock scoured for cash, Mr. Profous ''did all the technical stuff, getting the contractors up there, ordering bolts,'' Ms. Budrock said. ''I did the fund-raising. George made it happen.''

Making it happen involved getting heavy materials to each site, and this time horse and wagon gave way to helicopter airlifts and all-terrain vehicles.

The Hunter tower was the fourth to reopen, following Red Hill, Balsam and Overlook, not far from Woodstock. And one recent Sunday, with an early snow swirling, volunteers struggled to install windows on the last of the five, at Mount Tremper, before giving in to the icy winds. The tower, with windows, will open officially in the spring.

The next goal is to have ''summit stewards'' -- volunteers to stay at the towers in summer and tell of the mountains' wonders. Ms. Budrock sees the towers as a way ''to boost ecotourism'' and as a boon for nearby communities.

One hurdle will be maintenance. Any leftover cash will be the seed money for a preservation fund, Mr. Profous said. ''We're hoping that in the future no one will consider letting them fall apart again. That's what happened last time, and in 20 years they became useless.''

Photo: The fire tower on Mount Tremper, near Phoenicia, N.Y., is the last of five Catskill towers to be restored. (Will Waldron for The New York Times)